Late vengeance
by sevenofmine
Summary: Rizzoli & Isles investigate the work of a serial killer. Still on the search for a possible motivation, more corpses appear. But expect of a very similar physical aspect, these bodies have nothing in common. So how does the killer really choose his victims and why?
1. Chapter 1

**As I am nobody expecting neither reviewing nor reading this story completely, I am too lazy to put it into the right format and editing the paragraphs. In case you're really interested, please write me and I'll make the story handier to read.**

**Regards, sevenofmine**

Chapter 1

It had become summer in Boston and Jane and Maura had decided to take a walk at Friday night toward the near park. They passed the disco and heard the basses and dance music to the other side of the street. They finally entered the nature area where it was a lot more silent. "It's so calm here. Isn't that beautiful?" Maura asked who had suggested this route. "It would be more beautiful with a beer and a remote control in the hand in front of a baseball game," Jane complained but forced herself to a smile. "God, Jane. I wonder how you ever found a man when you're so unromantic!" "I'm not unromantic. It's just a Friday night and everybody's at a party or at least watching the match of the Dogs versus the Red Socks! And the only ones here in the park are some junkies during their trips." "Jane…" Maura sighed. At that moment, the detective's cell phone rang. She answered and explained about a minute later: "We've got a body." Maura just stared at her skeptically and then followed to her car.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the crime scene. It was in one of the calm suburbs and they entered the skyscraper, a typical low-budget building for either students or those who had just starting working and were still in formation. Korsak received them on 5th floor and led them through the flat to the bedroom. Jane raised an eyebrow when she saw the mess. It was a typical men's room, everywhere posters of nice Playboy ladies and clothes lay everywhere. "His name is Lars Beckett, 24, has started three months ago at the chemical plant in Boston's south after 3 years training at Formation school," Korsak read out from his iPhone and looked at the ladies. Maura directly went over to the bed where the man was lying. He was tall, she guessed about one meter eighty-three or eighty-four. His skin was a bit tan, perhaps from vacations in the south, he had short and dark-brown hair and an unshaven three-days-beard. He was muscular and seemed to be a dominant person. But now he looked rather pathetic, his eyes were open and staring at the ceiling and it was clear that the last thing he had seen was pure horror. He was naked, his clothes were scattered in the room and on the bed. The bedclothes were soaked with red liquid and the wall was sprinkled with blood as well. "How did he do it?" Jane asked when she had stared long enough at the dead body. "His chest is cut open. It seems to have been a quick, determined and strong cutting. The perpetrator wanted him not to defend himself. After this cut, there can be seen several other and due to the blood distribution on the bed and the wall, he had acted very fast and impulsively. Stabbing into some important veins may have created that sprinkling on the wall. But here are some wounds that have not much blood around. It means that they were added post mortem. It indicates that the delinquent may have enjoyed killing him or couldn't stop himself from abusing the body," Maura stated in one breath. The detectives all nodded. "It was something personal," Frost answered while he tried not to look at the body. "Great. We'll all search his history, dig out foes, ex-girlfriends, everything," Jane claimed and headed to the desk. "Did he have a girlfriend?" she asked. "No idea," Frost answered. "But I'll find out."

Jane opened the draws and had a look inside. It showed some work materials, a few books about chemistry and a package of condoms. Suddenly she looked up and without a word she left to the staircase. She looked around and noticed that both Frost and Korsak had followed her. "There are cameras," she indicated and pointed toward the corner. "I'll get the tapes," Frost said and Jane nodded. Although she didn't think so, she hoped that the murderer had been stupid enough not to know this.

[Rizzoli & Isles Theme]

"And?" Jane asked when she entered the office. "Nothing," Korsak informed. He was sitting next to Frost at the desk and they were watching the surveillance video. It showed Beckett and someone else walking up the stairs. But the black-white shadow next to him wore a baseball cap, a pullover with hood, wide trousers and also black shows. He or she never showed the face nor did he or she indicate its sex. They were walking side by side and he was once seen to come closer but she pushed him a bit away. "Great," Jane sighed. "I spoke with his parents and his sister. Well, his sister told me some more truth: He was a typical macho and had each week another girlfriend. Never was anything serious and he never received any threats." "That excludes the girlfriends and family. Any enviers at work or somewhere else?" Frost asked curiously. Jane shook her head. "I called his boss and he said that he did his work and met some other colleagues after it. He also said that each Friday they went out together but he couldn't say where. Must have been something near the suburb. Frost, you accompany me on this endless search, okay?" He nodded and followed her down. Just when the elevator doors opened, she received a short message from Maura. "Let's have a look to Autopsy," she commented but Frost answered he'd wait in the car for her. She smiled and pressed the down button to basement.

"What do you have, Maura?" she asked when she entered the cold Autopsy room. Maura, fully dressed with safety glasses and gloves, looked up. "I just tested the murder weapon. It's full of his blood but no foreign DNA. But I found traces of chlorine, ethanol and some other stuff." "English, Maura," Jane sighed. "Ethanol is an alcohol. It can wipe away DNA but not destroy them. But our murderer was very careful. A mixture of chlorine and other chemicals _is_ able to destroy DNA so that matching will be impossible." "But on the video our murderer wore gloves," Jane mentioned. Maura shrugged, "like I said, he or she is very careful. This doesn't fit to the 'personal motive'. Someone who has personal problems with the victim would act even more aggressive and careless." "But using a knife and the kind of injures here indicate something personal," Jane answered confused. Her friend just nodded. "Great. Call me when you have found something that could lead to our murderer," she said and left the room.

Upstairs, she met Frost and told him about that paradox. "Well, the usage of a knife doesn't mean it is personal and that he was so careful does not exclude it," Frost commented when they drove toward south. "Thanks, Frost, that's helping," she muttered. "Hey, what's your problem?" "My problem? I was called yesterday night at half past eight pm to a crime scene and today I had to get up at half past five again to work." Jane caught herself again. "Sorry, I'm just so tired." "Argument with your boyfriend?" "How, how do you know?" she asked surprised but then realized that he had blindly guessed. "He split up with me." "I'm sorry, Jane, but, let me be honest: He wasn't your type of guy anyway." "Thanks, Frost," she said and smiled.

"We've found the disco where he has been to and we spoke to his friends. But they only said that he went to toilet and then wrote them an SMS that he'd go home. With a smiley," Jane informed Korsak when they arrived at the office again. "That means he had encountered out murderer." "Which means otherwise, that it was a woman," Frost added and sat down at his desk. "But it doesn't lead us any further." "Yes, it does. We decreased our suspects to every woman who had been in a Boston disco yesterday night," Korsak answered sarcastically and Jane was just too tired to tell them to stop.

It was Monday night and Jane had just dozen off on her couch in front of running TV when somebody knocked at the door. She opened and it was Maura with both a six-pack bear and a bottle of wine in her hands. "Hey, I wanted that we could finally spend a night together. And because we were disturbed at the park…" "Come in," Jane said and they sat down on the couch. "Is it the game?" "Yeah, repetition," Jane answered and paused. "Why don't we watch it?" "Ryan split up with me," Jane suddenly said and Maura put down the glass of wine. "What? Why that?" "He told me he met another woman in the disco. I found a photo on his cell phone. She's five years younger than me, blonde and has tits like baseballs!" Jane said angrily. Her face turned to sad and Maura crawled nearer to her. "Come on. He didn't earn a woman like you. You're more worthy," she tried to solace her. "But I liked him. I liked him very much," Jane started to cry and Maura started to hug sobbing Jane deeply. "There'll come other men, I promise…I promise…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A month passed by and slowly the case about Lars Beckett wandered to the other files of unsolved cases. There were suspects, but those with a motive had an alibi or were impossible to kill him and those who had no alibi had no motive. Other cases came and were solved and the murder started to become forgotten. But then something happened that made them remember all this in very detail: Another body appeared. Jane and Maura were both early jogging on a Saturday morning when they were called by Frost who informed them that he just received a message from police of uptown. After returning to Maura's house, showering and clothing, they ended up on the campus of Boston Scientific University. They walked along the huge buildings supported by immense columns and there were green areas where students were learning and relaxing between lessons in the sun. Maura didn't mention anything about her life as a students as she knew that would depress her friend Jane even more. They arrived at the crime scene and fought their way through the crowd of excited students. "He was found here?" Jane asked when she arrived and had a first look at the body. They were next to the staircase to the main campus and in the corridor of columns on one side and building to the other side. "Yes. This morning a gardener found the man. His name is Ian Kellerman, he is 24 and just finished his bachelor in Forensic Science. This semester was his first in Toxicology, a master study course," Korsak said while Maura kneed down to the victim. "The resemblance is fascinating," she stated. "Which resemblance?" Jane asked surprised. "He looks exactly like this victim in the other case one month ago." "You mean the case we couldn't solve?" Frost asked and the pathologist nodded. "You are right," he stated and took at vertical picture from above. "Do you think we might have a serial killer?" "Our last victim died on a Friday night as well. He died about eleven to twelve hours ago, meaning a time of death between nine and ten o'clock yesterday. And the cause of death are as well multiple cuttings and stabbings most probably with a knife," she answered. Jane stared at the body. The man was tall, tan, had dark brown, short hair and a little beard. He nearly looked exactly like the first victim. "You could be right, Frost. But nevertheless, we need to interrogate his friends and co-students." "If this is a serial killer, Jane-" Maura argued but was intervened: "If this was a serial killer, he probably tried out his first murder on someone unknown and the second one, when he became more sure about what he's doing, may have been someone who was closer. Or it is just a coincidence." "Or somebody wants to make it look like a serial killer but actually just wanted one of them dead," Korsak proposed and Jane nodded.

"However, we have to ask some of the students," she said and walked toward the crowd. "Who of you were friends to Ian?" she asked at the staring students. Some of them raised their hands. Jane nodded and asked them nicely to come to a more quieter place where she and Frost started interrogating them individually.

"So you knew Ian?" "Yeah, he was one of my best friends. We were in the same clique and he went with us to discos at night," the girl with too much make-up answered. Jane nodded and did some notes. "Did he have any foes or envious persons?" "Well, a few guys, but nothing serious. But some people were envious: In lab lessons his working partner is Theresa." "Who's she?" "A complete nerd. She's such a smart-aleck, I don't like her at all. Nobody likes her." "Why?" Jane asked curiously. "Well, she's shy and friendly but completely out of anybody's league. She's best in all classes and I really don't want to have anything to do with her. Ian claimed she was a really nice person and not so shy but really, someone who's that intelligent can't be." "Did he have a good relationship to her?" "Yes. Ian told me everything and I told him he was too kind to her. He started to like her and said he'd even spent a night with her. But she doesn't drink any alcohol. That's awkward, isn't it?" the student complained. Jane sighed and said nothing. "Okay, any other friends?" "Lee and Marco were his closest friends, they always turned up together. And Lee's so hot…" she sighed. Jane was close to delivering her to the Autopsy table next to Ian. "Did he…Ian have a girlfriend?" "None these days. He and Lisa split up after he made out with my friend Katharina at a party. Well, good so, Lisa was kind of a bitch. And Ian was more of a party guy anyway…I can't believe he's dead," she started sobbing. "I mean, who'd do that? Everybody liked him over here." Jane sighed and looked around. Other students were waiting and she didn't have time to solace such a broad like the sobbing make-up-delivery sitting in front of her.

The next student Jane interviews was Lee, one of the best friends of Ian. He was a tall, colored guy who had just come here from Chicago university to Boston. He was nice and seemed to have been Ian's best help for passing the exams. "Ian was kind to everybody. Even to Amanda." Jane nodded, to Amanda she had just spoken. "Would she do it?" "Hell no. She's the greatest bitch of our grade but most guys like her. I always told Ian he should quit her clique. He was too good for them." "But you went out with them all as well?" "Yeah, the discos were fun I mean. But we always had a big group of people." "You go out Friday nights?" Jane asked. "Usually, yes. But today's the one Saturday in a month where most of us have lessons as well. So we decided not to." "Do you know what he spent yesterday with? And with whom? Why should he go on campus that late in night?" "I honestly have no idea. He claimed to have no girlfriend, nor a love affair but some students live in the rooms of the campus. But he never mentioned that he'd like to visit someone." "Well, okay. What about his relation to other students? I heard about Lisa, Marco and Theresa." "Well, Lisa is Amanda's greatest friend and she'd do everything for her. I think she had a little crush on him but nothing more. Marco was also one of his closest friends and we all mostly spoke about women." "Like Theresa?" Jane asked suspiciously. Lee laughed. "Theresa wouldn't harm a fly. I don't know what Amanda told you about her but I don't think it was anything good. Theresa's a big nerd, that's true. Top of all classes and she knows everything. Ian and her were partners in Practical Chemistry and Securing of Evidences. But Theresa never acts up with all her knowledge. She stays for herself but when someone asks her something she's really kind and if you have problems she helps you. Ian said he went out with her, once to a pub and once to cinema and she was all right. She doesn't drink any alcohol and doesn't take drugs…not that any of us would, but…you know what I mean." Jane nodded. Drugs, cigarettes and alcohol were usual on students parties and everyone knew that so she let him continue. "She's nice but Amanda tries to prevent anybody from talking to her…I think Ian may have had a little crush on her but I'm not sure." "Does Theresa do anything against what Amanda does?" "No. She just stays calm and avoids people who don't like her. She's such a self-disciplined person and I have once seen that she's in martial arts class here." "You have sports classes?" "Yeah, they're not obligatory but a lot of people spend time here after lessons have ended." "Was Ian in one of those groups?" "Yeah, he played soccer with Marco and me but there wasn't anybody who would have wanted him any bad either. These are mixed groups with students of all courses and semesters." "What courses are here on this campus?" Jane asked interestedly as she had only heard from Forensic Science, Toxicology and Bionics. "Bachelors in Forensic Science, Bionics, Chemistry with materials science and Chemistry of Nanotechnology, as well as Masters in Bionics, Toxicology, Nano-Engineering and Specific Cell Biology." "I have not the slightest idea what you're talking about," Jane muttered and smiled.

Jane looked most forward to the interview with Theresa. She had already heard everybody nearly talking about anybody and Ian seemed to have been a nice guy and student. But Theresa seemed most natural of all of them and not like Amanda or Lisa whose marks were as bad as their social behavior. Now this lab partner of Ian was a small girl, she was very slender but tall and seemed to be very sporty. She had a very pale skin, long and blonde hair and didn't seem as shy as Amanda had indicated. She seemed most as an adult although Jane nearly fainted when she found out that she was only 19. "How that?" she asked in surprise. Not only must she have hurried through school but her face and eyes' expression had indicated her being much older. "I graduated from school with 17 and could skip some courses here," she explained. Jane raised an eyebrow but continued with her questions. "You and Ian worked together in laboratory lessons?" asked Jane who was tired by all those time spending with students who haven't left puberty yet. Theresa in contrary, did only wear bit make-up but her beauty was natural. "Yes. We were divided into small groups at the beginning of the term." "You became friends?" "I wouldn't call it so. He still hang out mostly with Marc and Lee and Amanda and her group." "I heard they don't want to have anything to do with you…" Theresa shrugged her shoulders and Jane couldn't believe that this little girl could stand through Amanda's insults all alone. "You went out with Ian a few times?" Jane continued. "Just twice. We once were in a pub and once in cinema but nothing more." "Do you know anybody who would have wanted to hurt him?" She shook her head. "He was a nice guy and never listened to prejudices. He tried to be an 'all-good-guy' and nice to everybody." "You don't believe in 'all-good-guys'?" "No…" "I'm sorry to have to ask but did Ian and you come closer to each other, I mean-" "He once asked me and I said no. This was the end of this topic." "And he never tried again?" No," she said and Jane heard something in her voice that she couldn't sort in yet. "You don't have any sexual…or romantic relationship to anybody on this campus, do you?" Jane asked and somehow felt sorry for Theresa. She shook her head again. "No, I'm just their nerd," she answered with a bit of irony and the detective nodded. Most likely Lee was right and Theresa really wasn't the type of guy who killed the only person close to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

She had been a shy girl and never caused any trouble. Born as a single child in Oberhausen, West Germany by a German mother and an American Father she was raised bilingual. Her English improved when the family moved to Chicago when she was four. But the reason for the move to another country had been another than just a working place one: Only a few months later her parents dumped her on the streets of the big city and disappeared. Left alone she was found and brought to an orphanage which unfortunately closed about one and a half years later. Due to a partnership between Chicago and London, she and five other children were moved to an orphanage in North-London. London was a big city and it was hard to live in, getting used to the accent as a not-native-speaker. She tried to fit in and eventually made some friends and started visiting elementary school. The social workers in the orphanage tried to care especially for the younger children so that they weren't dragged into street life so early or at all. But all the caring didn't work out when the streets of the district stayed as dangerous as ever. So one early night that little girl in the age of nine was simply kidnapped by a young man age 24 whose desire for lust was greater as his need to follow the law.

One night she woke up again in a small room. It was just big enough for a wardrobe and a double bed. When she sat up she noticed that one hand of hers was chained to the bed and that she couldn't free herself. In anxiety, she waited about three hours until the door unlocked and the man who had knocked her off the last night, entered the room. He was twenty-four and she yet didn't dare to look much at him. He smiled and declared that from now on, she'd serve him for all his needs. And so he did. The first few days, he came to the room every evening to becoming pleased by that little girl but never released her from the chain. He gave her some food once of twice a day and also a bucket for her own needs. She didn't speak much to him but had to do everything he demanded. After a four days or so, he first released her from the chains so that she could go to the bathroom to go to toilet or have shower. He watched her all the time and chained her for night. During day he was away and sometimes he even came during the day. Then, he came with some pills he forced her to take before pleasing him. "What's in there?" she asked but he just forced her to swallow it. She felt so light after it and so awkward and everything felt as if it was a dream. She learnt to know drugs and alcohol abuse since he forced her to take something before doing it again. She couldn't resist and couldn't free herself because he was just too strong for her.

It was another night of sorrow and the little girl was silently sobbing. He had beaten her up again, like he did when she was pleasant enough or when he just liked to. Her eye was already swollen blue-violet and her arms hurt so much. Her stomach noted that she hadn't eaten anything for one day and her abdomen hurt like hell as well. He didn't take much care of her condition and loved to cause her pain. She wiped her tears away with the hand that wasn't chained to the bed. She didn't know how long she could stand this anymore. There were no windows and she had no idea how much time she had spent in that room, how often he had come in here and the alarm clock next to her had given up a long time ago. Suddenly she heard a noise at the door and it unlocked. She didn't understand why he locked it when she was chained anyway. "Hey, my sweet girl. I couldn't sleep and couldn't jerk off either so I thought I could better nail you," he said in his slimy voice and came to her. He grabbed her neck and pulled her upward. Then he started to undress himself and search for the keys. He undid her chain and threw the little girl in the middle of the bed before he crawled onto her. He smiled his ugly and laughed when she grimaced in pain. "Oh yeah," he moaned and pushed the tiny breasts of her even harder. She looked aside and tried to think of something else. When he was finished, she started pressing her boobies and hitting her again, with special pleasure for her already colored eye. She was sure she couldn't stand this forever and there was this impulse inside of her which she knew she couldn't control any longer. Then suddenly it happened:

She rose forward and her forehead hit his face. He screamed up and she used this moment to crawl away from him. During so she grabbed the short trousers and the t-shirt that lay on the floor and didn't dare to turn around. She hurried toward the door and hurt him come after her. She had nearly reached the door to outside of the unknown house when she heard a loud sound and she broke down again. She turned around and saw him a few meters away, a gun in his hand. She looked down at herself, something red was turning up on her shirt and slowly dropping on the floor. She touched it although she didn't feel anything. She saw his smile and instinctively grabbed the pillow of the near-by couch and threw it into his direction. She didn't have a look if she had distracted him but she kicked open the door with all the force she had and stumbled out into the dark night. She didn't stop despite all that screams and shouts but ran for it. Finally, when she couldn't breathe anymore, she dared to stop and sunk down on wall of a huge skyscraper building. She was too scared to look around and didn't even react when some shadow kneed down next to her and spoke to her. Then, after some time, she looked up again and saw the face of a smiling woman. She was nice and tried to help her stand up until she touched the blood-soaked t-shirt. She screamed up and then had a closer look, noticing that the little girl was bleeding heavily. The girl, however, saw her dialing emergency number, but only seconds after this, she fainted.

She woke up again and the first thing she saw, was only whiteness. After a moment, everything started to shape and she realized that she was in hospital. A woman on a seat stood up and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. The girl sat up but directly felt the pain again. "Slowly," the woman said and smiled at her. "What happened?" the girl asked and looked around. "Everything is okay, ya? You're safe here. And whoever did this" – she pointed on the wound – "won't do it again. Can you tell me something about you? Your name?" She whispered, she didn't get out any louder sound. "And how old are you?" the nice woman asked. It was another one than who had called the ambulance. "I'm nine." "Good…can you slowly tell me what has happened? Best from the beginning." And she started to explain who she was, where she came from and about the night this man took her and since then he forced her a lot of things. She listened carefully, nodded and asked questions. When she ended she picked a file from her handbag and put it on the bed. She took out a photo which showed a man. "Is that him?" she asked and the girl nodded. "Who is he?" she hardly could speak. "His name is Chris James. He…has done with several women before what he did to you but none of them were so young like you. He is already wanted but we didn't know he was in Great Britain. We got curious when we heard about your case and I was coincidentally in town." "Who are you?" "My name is Rachel McGee, I'm working for International Department from FBI. We're some kind of federal police in the USA." The girl nodded interested. "Chris James is on our Wanted List, which means we've been trying to catch him for some time. He also likes to come back to victims that once escaped or were set free….this happened when they were hurt too much." "Did he also kill some of the other woman?" The agent hesitated but then nodded. "Yes. You are one of the few who managed to escape. There were only two other cases we know about and at least six other women, but I don't think-" "That I'm old enough for that?" the girl asked with strength that the FBI agent would have never guessed. "How long was I imprisoned there?" "Three months. Listen, I know this is hard for you but we need you to be secure before he finds you again." She nodded and waited. "FBI has arranged that you come to the USA. You will live in a Federal Witness Program which means you'll get a new name and a new age, a new identity. You'll have to leave this life here and never return or talk to anybody about this. We will talk about this later again but I know it is hard to abandon a life…" "What life? I had no life before," she muttered sarcastically and looked at the typical British rain outside pouring against the windows.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

At quarter past for Jane and Frost returned to the Police Department and exchanged their results. They were nothing worse and they didn't come any closer to neither a solution to this case nor any affiliation with the case of Lars Beckett. They stared for a time that felt like hours at the pictures of the two young men whose only commonness was their similarity. "Perhaps a killer who murders young, tan and tall men?" Korsak suggested when he entered the office. "I searched his student's flat. Typically small with too much stuff. Didn't find anything interesting and he really didn't have a girlfriend as the neighbors told." "That's great," Jane commented. "Again a victim with no unusual behavior or any clue who could have been his enemy." "By the way, local Police just called me on the way. They found the murder weapon, it's a knife as well, but another one than was used last time. It was detected in the bushes near the crime scene," Korsak informed and sat down. "Great. But in the meantime our murder could have had plenty of time to buy a knife that's unobtrusive. Damn it, he plans it all along," Jane muttered and looked at her vibrating cell phone. "I'm gonna look what Maura has for us," she said and went down to the Autopsy.

She entered Maura's room and disgustedly looked at the stomach content of the victim which was nicely separated on the table next to the Autopsy table. "Do you always have to do that?" she asked and tried not to look there. "I try to work as efficient as possible," Maura answered when she looked up from her work. Jane nodded and asked for the results. "Well, Ian Kellerman was obviously murdered with a knife. If it was the murder weapon near-by I am still proofing." "It is," Jane said impatiently and Maura ignored that irony. "It's the same like last time. Somebody started with cutting him deeply so that he dies fast because of blood loss. Then there were several scratches and stabbings that were wildly made into his body. When he was dead, however, there are just a few stabbings which means that our murderer has more self-discipline this time." "Either an envious woman or a man who is jealous because he's so good-looking," Jane muttered to herself and observed the body while Maura was observing her. "What's up?" Jane asked surprised. "Do you have any idea yet?" "No," she admitted. "There's no relation between our two victims except their physiological similarity. I just hope it isn't a crazy serial killer who kills men looking like this." Maura nodded and Jane left the basements again. Something disturbed her on that case but she yet didn't know what it was.

"Let us admit it: We have nothing again," Korsak said when Jane entered. He and Frost had spent hours watching video of the surveillance camps of the campus but haven't found anything. "Are the cameras moving?" Jane asked when she entered. "No, but there are only a few and somebody must have really known where they were," Frost commented and folded his arms. "I really shouldn't say this but I hope he'll do it again…and does a mistake then." Jane nodded and sat down. She looked into the files and sighed. "We really interrogated everyone. We checked every relation between those two victims, but why? Every serial killer has a trade mark…like…you know what I mean." She didn't want to mention Hoyt. "Well, our serial killer kills tan, tall , unshaven and dark haired men with a knife, isn't that something?" Korsak asked. "Doesn't he want to express himself? Tell us some sort of a message?" "Not if the serial killing thing isn't the main purpose," Frost mentioned. "What do you mean?" Jane asked. "What if the bodies are unimportant to him but just the killing counts. It isn't important that we recognize his work but that he gets his satisfaction." "Are you hearing yourself?" Korsak asked and Frost grimaced in irony. Jane sighed and had to admit that they had nothing. "But all murders were on a Friday." "Coincidence?" "Or the murderer only has time on Fridays." "Then it can't be any of those students," Korsak joked and Jane forgot the idea again. "Fuck," she cursed. "This is bullshit. We won't find anything until he does a mistake. And when he carries on like this, it'll take ages!" "We could protect all tan, tall men between twenty-four and twenty-six," Korsak said and Jane just left the room without answering. The two male agents just stared at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

This failure drove Jane nearly crazy. Maura tried to calm her down and they managed to not think over it and just hope that the similar looks were coincidental. But after two further weeks, nobody thought that anymore. It was a Friday night and it had become very late as their last case, the murder on a junkie which had cost them three days searching some traffic areas, had just been solved. Maura and Jane entered their favorite bar at one o'clock in the morning and were lucky that the barkeeper had decided to open his pub longer on Friday nights. It was crowded as always and Jane managed to move through the masses of people toward the desk where her friend was waiting for her. They nipped on their beers and Maura just wanted to say something, when Jane's cell phone rang. "If that's a case, I'm gonna hang myself," she muttered when she put down the bottle and looked at her cell. "And?" "It is," the detective answered when she stared at Frost's photo on the display. "It's gotta be important," she complained. "It is. We found a third body." "What do you mean?" "Our serial killer. We have a body in the North park, his name is Keith Liamson, thirty years old, the oldest of our victims yet. He has been stabbed several times and he died due to heavy bleeding. He is tan, probably Mexican origin, tall, about one meter eighty-five or so, has an unshaven beard, dark brown, short hair, not so perfect teeth. Some are lying next to him so he was probably been hit several times so that the murderer could more easily stab him." "Fuck," Jane caused and looked at Maura. "We're on our way," she ended the phone call and told Maura that they had to go. On the way, she explained what Frost had just told her. "Oh my god," Maura commented with a concerned look on her face. "I think it is a woman." "What? Suddenly you begin to guess?" "Look, Jane. It fits into the scheme. Women use knives more often than men and she obviously felt passion during this killing. All victims were men who are looking the same." "And what else do you suggest, Sherlock?" Jane answered sarcastically. Maura just sighed and concentrated on the street. "I only mean…it is possible, Jane. Somehow she feels connected to men who are between one meter eighty and eighty five height, have tan skin, dark hair and who have an unshaven three-days-beard." "She may be angry with a man she had met or so. He left her and she can't cope with it. Great, now we only have to find out all women who once had a boyfriend matching the victims and who have been left by one of them," Jane said ironically and Maura parked the car. "I don't think it is so easy. She definitely searches men in Boston. She is more than angry, her feelings are more complex," she said when they stepped out and entered the park where they directly spotted the light of the huge police lamps lightening the crime scene.

Jane felt herself moving like in slow motion. She couldn't believe that a serial killer, a female serial killer, had the time and the patience to kill three men so easily and without being detected. All murders have obviously been planned before. Whoever the murderer was, he or she must have some real dangerous problems. "What's up?" the detective asked and examined the body. He was again looking like all the other men, his eyes were wildly open. "Why's he naked?" was her next question. The clothes were scattered around him. "Perhaps she persuaded him to undress," Maura proposed. "She?" Frost asked surprised. "Maura thinks it was a woman who has a problem with tan, dark haired men between twenty-four and thirty." "Ah," Frost made and started to explain: "Some junkies found him about thirty minutes ago. Korsak is interrogating them. As I said, Keith Liamson, thirty years, works at a pizzeria downtown. We've send a team to search his house but there was not yet anything interesting. We couldn't spot fingerprints either, no possible DNA. Our murderer is very clean. You really thinks it's a woman?" Maura nodded. "Women prefer knives because it is more personal. That's why we first thought it would be a friend or so of our first victim. But this woman is after men like him." Jane sighed. She had to admit that Maura's proposition sounded reasonable. She nodded to the pathologist to accept her theory. "And what now? If it's really a woman with hatred for men she could be anywhere. She doesn't even have to live in Boston!" "I don't think so, Jane," Maura said with experience of her psychology courses of university. "I think she wants to see the success of her murders. I believe she knew at least one of the victims. Perhaps the second or this one here. The first murder was to see if it worked out. The second perhaps too. At least this victim is close to her. It is how I would have preceded." "Yeah, you're right. First try out the killing. If you're caught and so. And then she started with a more precise murder to find out how police works and better trick us," Frost agreed. Jane sighed and looked around. "Great. I…think you two could be right. But that means we need to have a closer look on his and our second victim's environment," she decided and walked over to Korsak to find out if he had something new.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was a new life for her and she resolved to do her best. After the nice FBI agent had interviewed her and asked her all kinds of questions, a few days later the little girl was brought to Dallas in the United States. There she got a new name, Jessica Jones but her age stayed the same. They had forced her through all kinds of tests to find out to which school they should send her and how they should watch her. But to her own, and to the agent's surprise, she performed better than expected. Her talent had never been supported and therefore her intelligence never discovered. It was decided that she could turn out useful and they sent her with an agent who was currently out of duty due to her last operation, to a school in Dallas. She has just become ten years old and it was her first day at sixth grade of Junior High School. She tried to smile at her new classmates and to make friends but as soon as it turned out that she was super-intelligent, nobody wanted to really get her to know. After about two months, in which she had become closer to perhaps one or two girls who were nice to her, she was moved to seventh grade due to the impressed teachers.

The agent with whom she lived together was nice and really impressed and even after she took along duty, she still cared for Jessica and played her mother when 'friends' or teachers asked. She grew up in Dallas and achieved top marks in all subjects although she always tried to stay number two. She never liked any kind of attention and as friendly to all the older students in her grade. When she was fourteen she started to work and do some part-time jobs next to school and with sixteen she started working in a restaurant. It was a very cold January night when she was walking home from her last shift. It was close to midnight because she had also done the cleaning. She heard the bells of the near church and passed the underground station. She was living with her 'mother' in a small flat and with the time, the agent and her had become best friends and as she didn't have any family either, it was kind of a replacement for both of them. Jessica jumped up the stairs to the building and the staircase. She arrived on the third floor and stopped breathing when she realized that the door was open. Curiously she tiptoed forward. During the past seven years she has never forgotten who she really was, what had happened and nearly every night she either cried or woke up sweaty from nightmares.

She passed the door and looked at the shadow on the floor. After a moment, this black shadow formed into the shape of a body, a blood-soaked body. It was the agent, the woman who had played her mother, the person she had ever been closest to. Now, there she was lying, her white blouse torn apart, everywhere blood, her blonde hair soaked in it. Her mouth and eyes were widely open as if she was screaming. Jessica's throat went dry when she looked up again and directly stared into a grinning face. The man held up a bloody knife and dropped it. It fell down like a feather and landed with a silent noise on the floor. "Hello my dear," the man said and stepped over the body. Jessica took a moment before she realized herself again. She wanted to turn around and run away but he was faster. She had nearly reached the door when she felt herself pulled backward and she lied on the floor and on the body of the agent. She felt the urge to vomit but resisted and rolled herself away from the puddle of blood. She looked up and saw Chris James standing above her. "No," she whispered. She didn't want it to be true. It was him again, after all these years her worst nightmare has come true. He had found her. He kneed down but held her tight. She struggled but couldn't free herself. "I missed you…you know that? None of the girls who followed were like you. And here you are, a new life, a new name. But you're still looking the same…so pretty." He touched her face and then pressed her cheeks together. "But this time…you'll be mine," he hissed and knocked his head against her head. She heard herself falling down on the wooden floor but her vision went black and a hand grabbing her hair was the last thing she remembered.

She woke up again and it took her some moments to realize that she was still at her 'home'. She tried to move but was chained with some handcuffs on the bed. She was naked and looked around. Chris James sat there, opposite to her and smiled. He came over and without a word he showed her some pills. He forced her mouth open and she tried to protect herself but couldn't. He waited until the pills started to work. Her vision became blurry but she remained conscious. She was hearing the most silent moves but her legs and arms felt numb. She wanted to free herself but then she couldn't do anything anymore. She only felt what happened. Somebody stepping onto her, the pain, her own silence. She realized everything around her, even when he dressed up and left the room. She didn't know how long she had starred at the draws of her desk until someone else came in. She noticed his black suit and something he told her but she couldn't understand. She was freed and finally dared to take a look at herself. She was covered in blood which was funny as she couldn't feel anything. Neither the warmth of the liquid nor the pain it must create, but she was carried away and again woke up in a far too white room. This time Jessica noticed immediately that she was in a hospital. But no nice woman was sitting there but two men in suits. Obviously FBI agents, she thought and she turned out to be right.

Since then it went all so fast for her. They explained, they talked a lot and she had to leave the city. No night and no day was like before. She didn't have any intentions anymore, what should she live for? She was dragged into drug scene in Seattle. A big city and she regarded herself more than a sex object than a woman. She didn't count the men but each time she felt the pain. And she endured it with more alcohol, with more drugs, with more joints. Each night she fell deeper and the light of the tunnel disappeared slowly. It was two months later when she finally got help. She was forced to visit some psychologists, she hated all of them, except for one. He was more calm, he was patient, he didn't demand progress every time. He listened to her and she listened to him. He persuaded her to take a try. To make something out of her life. That was the time when she decided that the little girl from eight years ago didn't exist anymore. She wanted to change herself, forever. She stopped any drugs or alcohol or any thoughts of men. Any kind of contact made her feel bad and fell all the pain come up again. This was the only thing even the psychologist couldn't help her with. She just couldn't cope with it. No physical contact, no nearness of a man. She became ambitious again and studied hard. FBI helped her to finance and moved her all three weeks to another school, she worked in part-time jobs and graduated within three months with top marks. The Intelligence Agency already had plans with her, she should join and become a scientist but she herself decided to study. She was accepted at a university and moved once more to another town but where she intended to stay for some time.

But still the pain stayed. Her nightmares went worse and worse and she blamed herself. But she hadn't been strong enough and she started to train herself, force herself into physical and mental fitness. And she already looked forward to the day when she could finally kill Chris James. But nightmares and paranoia became a routine and after a time she couldn't stand this anymore. She needed to do something, she needed to lose her aggression, not only with sports and with martial arts. She felt numb, she needed to feel again, anything, whatever. With all those girls she had tried, it had worked, but love she had never found. And so there was only the opposite left.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jane was exhausted. She was at wit's end when she fell down in bed at night. Three murders. No evidence. One theory and no idea how to catch the killer. She didn't sleep well this night and woke up at least a dozen times. Finally, three minutes before her alarm clock sounded, she woke up and sat up straight, sweaty from an incredible horrible nightmare. She had dreamed being in a black hole with Maura, Korsak, her mother, Frost, her brothers and a masked woman. It had been the murderer, whispering that despite the differences she would be next. She had felt how her neck was sliced open and warm blood dripping down on her body before she had finally realized that it was a dream. She turned on the light to check if she was really lying in her warm bed and then stood up to drink some water in the kitchen. She tiptoed through her flat and finally found the light switch. She stared at the clock, indicating the time and realized that the annoying sound must be her alarm clock which was getting louder every ten seconds.

Twenty minutes later she was having breakfast, it was seven o'clock in the morning. Her hair was still wet and she read the newspaper, finding out that today was Thursday. It was nearly exactly two weeks after the last sign of their serial killer to whom she was unfortunately reminded when Korsak already called her. "Have you had a look at your watch, Korsak?" she asked unfriendly. She always was when someone spoke to her before eight a.m. "He's back, Jane. Or she." "Our serial killer? But tonight is not Friday." "I know." "Maybe a copycat?" "I don't think so. It's the same wounds he suffered, he looks pretty much the same like the other victims." "Yeah, that's typical for a copycat." "Well, I don't know. But I just think our murderer couldn't wait any longer until Friday," Korsak thought loud. "Give me the address," Jane demanded and finished her breakfast as fast as possible. Still with wet hair she arrived at the crime scene. "What do we have?" she asked when she entered the house. Frost had been waiting for her in the living room and guided her upstairs to the bedroom. And there he was lying, another victim, tall, tan like having spent too much time in Mexico, unshaven, brown hair, blue eyes. He was naked and lying in his bed, his chest and belly with many deep cuts. "Some of them post mortem," Maura answered Jane's unasked question. She nodded. "His name was Mark Sharins, age twenty-seven," Korsak informed and showed the detective a small file on his phone. She regarded it and looked back at the corpse. "That's funny," Maura commented after a while. "What?" Jane asked impatiently. "Here," the pathologist held something up with the forceps. Jane needed to come closer to realize that it was a single strand of blonde hair. She bagged and tagged the evidence and hoped that it would give them some hints, either on the man's girlfriend or on their murderer.

"I have no match for our DNA probe," Maura informed when Jane entered Autopsy. "But I have only searched in our databanks yet, not in those of the FBI and CIA, they're more complete," she added. Jane nodded: "Any other news?" "Unfortunately not, but I don't think it was a copycat. There hasn't been much trouble about our serial killer in the media yet and the public doesn't know enough to create a copycat. This victim shows the same kind of wounds like those before. It is him…or her." "I still believe it is a 'she'. If I killed people, I'd kill men and not women," Jane muttered. "You're not dragging yourself too much into it, are you?" Maura asked concerned. "What? No…" Jane reassured but when she left, she wasn't that sure either any more. She left Autopsy and spent the rest of the long day with staring at her computer as if it would suddenly release the solution to her problem.

But no, it did not. And with a miserable feeling, Jane went home this night, and the night later, and on Friday night. Not knowing that the next day would reveal another surprise for her. She had just had breakfast when her cell phone rang. It was Frost, a bad omen being called on a Saturday. "What's his name and where was he found?" Jane directly asked. She heard Frost deeply sighing before he answered. "Henry Shawn, twenty-six. I'll send you his address. He was found by a friend who was worried when he didn't answer his phone call." "Was he found in his bed?" "Yes, naked. His clothes are lying here everywhere. We have no DNA trace or any evidence yet. Although we have the murder weapon, the same knife like at the other crime scenes."

"Perhaps we should concentrate more on the victims than on our murder," Frost proposed. "What do you mean?" she older agent asked. "I mean, why does he, or more likely 'she' kill all these men? Whom do they resemble. We need someone who looks really similar to our victims." "And then?" "Then we know who our murderer actually wants to kill and have a link to her."

They searched until late in the evening with no results. They were about to give up when Frost suddenly yelled out. "What's up?" Jane asked and looked up from the dozen files on her knees. "I think I found something. His name is Chris James, thirty-four years old now. He's wanted to rape and violence. He had kidnapped several women and children to sexually abuse them." He showed her a photo. "He looks exactly like our victims," she commented. He nodded. "Maybe one of his old victims couldn't process what she's been through and now starts to get her revenge." "Then let's work with the list of his victims, let's have a look," Jane said and they stared together at the list of a dozen of women. "Oh my god…" Jane muttered. "Look, she became pregnant from him…and bore the child. And she had been nine at that age. Poor girl." "Wait a second. Her name is Theresa Palmer, see. Remember that student we interrogated at the campus?" he asked suddenly. "Theresa Riddle? Yeah, but everybody assured me…that she'd never harm a fly…you really think she could have done that?" She couldn't believe it. "Have a look at her file. She was only nine. He came back when she'd been sixteen. A girl like her can't probably cope with it. She must be in Federal Witness Program now." "And now that she has a life and is old enough, she can start with her vengeance." "Exactly. And you remember that we found out about her part-time job. It's every evening except for Wednesday and Friday!" Frost said in disbelief. Jane shook her head. "Oh my god," she muttered again and couldn't believe that she hadn't seen this before. "Frost," she suddenly said and grabbed his arm. "Today's Friday," she said and looked at him shocked. "You have an address?" she asked, he nodded and they grabbed their gear.

It took them thirty minutes to drive to the little flat of Theresa Riddle. It was a district where mostly gangs ruled the street and it was very late so they tried not to show their badges immediately. They ran up the stairs and finally arrived. Frost knocked at the door of the flat. "Theresa? Theresa, are you in there? This are agents Frost and Rizzoli from Police Boston." He waited a second but heard some movement and something that sounded like a short scream. He looked at his partner and without hesitation he broke down the door. They cleared the living room and Jane opened the door to the bedroom. What she saw, left her with an unremarkable face of horror. Theresa was sitting on her bed, silently starring at the floor where a naked body was lying. Jane came closer. She recognized Chris James, the face nearly completely cut open, the stomach content and inner organs next to him, a simple puddle of blood so big that you would never imagine that much blood in one body. She looked back at the young woman, so beautiful she was, with the knife still in her hand. She was silent and she seemed like she has just found inner peace and the possibility of staying so calm forever. "It took you longer than I expected," she answered simply and stood up. To Frost's confusing she threw her knife on the floor and put her hands behind her head. "I'm finished. There's nothing more for me to do," she added and Jane needed a second to realize that she had to arrest this woman.

There followed interrogations, interviews with psychologists, but whatever Jane saw or heard, Theresa wasn't going to talk to anybody and so she was brought to a psychiatry in North Boston. The detective had only found out three months later what had happened to their case and decided to visit the woman.

It was a stormy evening when Jane entered the asylum and was led to a white little room where she could encounter Theresa. She seemed so silent, so peaceful in her white suit. Her blonde hair made her face even more pale. "How are you?" Jane asked when they sat down. She shrugged her shoulders. "I know that you think that I'm insane. Maybe I am. But I don't belong here." "You killed five innocent men," Jane paid back. That the woman had killed James seemed so natural. After all what he'd done to her. "I know," she sighed. "But it was the only possibility I had…they let my daughter visit me yesterday…she was proud of me that I had killed her father. Can you believe that?" Jane slowly shook her head. This girl seemed to have lost all her emotions, everything. She was so pretty and so calm, so harmless. "Can't I get into a prison?" Theresa asked. "I think you're better cared for here," Jane said in disbelief. A prison was full of abuses and violence, the psychiatry was eventually better for her. But she shook her head. "Seeing all these ill people makes me even more sick. It's depressing to see that I am as mad as they are." "You aren't." "Then why am I here?" Jane sighed. She didn't know an answer. This girl was so harmless, no threat. With that impression she left the asylum. That impression left after she had heard about Theresa's escape from the psychiatry. Killing two guards on her way out and disappearing forever.


End file.
